Moving the Knight
by semtester
Summary: After the battle, Sophia Forrester ponders the loss in her life and it is from a friend that she will find a chance at true freedom. Updated for corrections


**Disclaimer:** All characters appearing in _LastExile_ are the copyright of Gonzo Digimation. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and the following story is not authorized by the copyright holder.

**A/N:** If you are a new fan to _LastExile_ and have not seen yet seen its conclusion, please be warned that the following fanfiction piece contains some spoilers, including a very big one. Most of the story, however, is made up of imagined scenes that I would loved to have seen between two of the "older" cast members. Intentionally, I took some obvious liberties with the characters. Unintentionally, I may have made some glaring errors. I hope that readers, the many or the few, will enjoy the former and forgive me for the latter. (Update as 5/19/2005-I can't believe I did this, but I had Sophia's eyes as gray. Yikes, I have corrected it to green because Sophia had GREEN eyes.) Respectfully - Puaena

* * *

Moving the Knight

_The knight is the only piece that may move over or around any piece in its way._

* * *

The bridge hummed with efficient activity that was unlike his own ship which now lay inoperable in the snow near the debris left by the great ship _Exile_. 

Scanning the room from the entry way, he observed that the communications officer was relaying information from David Mad-Thane's ship. One of the other bridge officers was speaking to the chief engineer, asking about the condition of the engine. Another was talking to the chief mechanic on the count of vanships that had returned and those that were still missing.

The activity was proof that life was moving forward because life did not give survivors much choice in the matter, but when his gaze caught on the empty captain's chair and all that it meant, his stoic pragmatism could not keep the hard lump from forming in his throat.

_No matter how just the cause, someone always gets left behind,_ he thought grimly.

He made no sound as he entered the darkened area. He had no need or wish to bring attention to himself or any expectation that he would be welcome. He only wished to find his friend and ask her for a moment of her time.

In spite of his silent entry, Campbell noticed his presence and, with a clear voice, announced to his crew, "Attention!"

The officers, busy at their tasks, halted at the command and turned, stood straight, snapped their ankles to lock and saluted him.

The gesture was a surprise and try as he might, the captain of the fallen ship _Urbanus_ struggled to ignore the irony of it. A little over a week ago, such a rapid command of attention for him would have been unheard of by the disciplined crew of the rogue ship _Silvana_.

Their loyalty was to Captain Alex Rowe and First Officer Sophia Forrester. Not to him.

Yet, here was the open sign of respect and Vincent Alzey's heart, as disciplined a piece of machinery if there ever was one, constricted briefly at what was conferred to him.

With eyes that had seen the same things that they had seen, he briefly acknowledged each man and the sole woman, a young woman by the name of Wina, by meeting their direct gaze with his own. In their eyes, he recognized the comradeship reflected and understood what it meant.

With a confidence that was more from habit than an indicator of his true feelings, he raised his own hand in answering salute. "Good work all," he told them, his tone resolute and sincere. "At ease."

They nodded and stood a little taller before relaxing to return to their duties.

As they moved to their stations, he motioned for Wina to come forward. "Miss Wina, where can I find the Empress?" he politely inquired.

"Miss Sophia has returned to her quarters, sir," she responded. "She instructed us to call for her as soon as we confirmed that Commander Wisla or Claus Valca had returned to the ship."

He released a cautious breath. "How is she?"

The young officer's expression faltered and she turned her eyes to the floor. For a moment, he caught a flash of guilt in the brown eyes. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "The Captain is... That is, he was..." Her words were choked and she was unable to finish.

Although he could not see her downcast expression, he knew what was there. A silent entreaty for him to relieve her of an explanation that she was not ready to think about. "It's okay, Wina," he said to the woman and placed a hand lightly upon her shoulder. "You don't have to say anymore. You may return to your post now."

"Thank you, Captain." She saluted him once more. He nodded in reciprocation and turned to leave.

The halls of the ship were silent except for the thrum of the engines that were ever present. It was a tangible silence of the type he had encountered so few times in his life that Vincent tried to forget that it existed.

It was the this kind of silence that came when a person knew that nothing would be the same again.

The first time he had felt this way was upon his father's death. The second time was when he had stood helplessly next to Alex Rowe as his best friend had been forced to endure the dedication ceremony that confirmed that his wife, Euris Baccianus Rowe, was truly gone.

Logically, he knew that these moments were inevitable, but he dreaded it nonetheless because there was nothing he could do about it except move forward.

On instinct, he bypassed the First Officer's quarters and went straight to the Captain's quarters. As he raised a bruised hand to knock on the door, he heard soft sobs coming from within. "Sophia," he called out, his hand flattening against the door. "Let me in."

There was no answer but no lessening in the rhythm of sound either. "Please, Sophia," he entreated, his forehead on the door. "He was my friend too."

He heard the slow scraping of feet moving across the floor and then she was opening the door to allow him entrance. She stepped backward as he came forward until they stopped in the middle of the room.

In that moment, he could not have said what was in the room or described its state. All he could see, all he knew was Sophia, dressed in the black and grey uniform favored by the ship's Captain, her two braids neatly pinned to her nape, her gold and blue fastenings that encased the locks of hair that began at her temples brushed against her cheeks that were flushed and tear streaked, and her eyes, those beautiful emerald eyes, unhidden by the glasses that she wore but did not need, were red, swollen and bearing small scratches at the outer edges where the skin was so raw from her rubbing away her tears that he feared that the slightest brush across them ran the risk of breaking the skin.

In the middle of that room, they stood, watching each other, tired physically, worn emotionally.

And then, with little preamble, she said, "Alex is dead."

* * *

His dress whites were soiled from dirt, smoke and blood, but his back was straight. "I know," he replied to her announcement. "I'm sorry, Sophia." 

As if they didn't belong to her anymore, she felt her hands begin to tremble. "I killed him," she confessed, her voice shaking. "It was my order that killed him."

His gaze held steady and he offered no empty words of sympathy designed to make her feel better but never would. Instead, he offered her what he could. "Maybe. Maybe not. We will never know. War is like that."

Truth, like war, could be painful and given the pain she felt at his words, she knew he spoke the only truth that was available to them.

Gently, he reached out and brushed a stray hair from her forehead and smiled a sad smile. Part of her had expected him to take her in his arms, but instead, he went to the private bath area. When he came out, his hand held a damp cloth. "Come here, Sophia."

Like an obedient child, she went to him, vulnerable and unsure, and felt him press the cool cloth against her heated skin with a touch so tender that it nearly undid her once more. It was his expression that kept her from indulging in her despair.

Being so close to him, she could gauge the anguish that he tried hard to hide but flickered in his brownish-gray eyes in varying degrees even as his features remained fixed. As she studied him and relished his ministrations, a memory, hidden for years, surfaced when a much younger Vincent had asked her to come forth in this same manner.

Her mother had just died. Marius had been called to speak with her father and left her with Vincent. At barely eighteen, he had been cocky and ambitious, but it was he who had held a young Sophia as she had cried for her mother and for a host of reasons that she could never name but knew existed. As brash, ambitious and cocky as he could be, Vincent had been faithful and unwavering in his comfort.

Unwavering in a way that Alex Rowe had never been. Not with her. Never with her, but none of that mattered. Sophia loved Alex Rowe and now he was gone.

Her hands lifted of their own accord and she curled her fingers into the lapels of his uniform. At her touch, his hand stilled. She focused on the gold trim collar at the base of his neck and attempted to keep the lacerating doubts in check so that she could push the words that were lodged in her throat to her lips and her fears could be released.

With gritted teeth, she whispered, "Wina said that he said my name." Her lovely features convulsed in agony. "That his last words were my name."

He paused as if to consider his reply. After a moment or two, he offered a cautious smile and said, "I can't blame him for that."

She shook her head and she laughed brokenly. "She lied, Vincent. Sweet, loyal Wina lied because she didn't want to hurt me. But I know the truth. He would never have said my name. We both know that."

The sigh was heavy as he laid the damp cloth on the desk. Then he enclosed her in his arms, cradling her loosely to his body. Strands of her auburn hair that dried ever so slightly fell over and into her eyes. With fingers that were ghostly in their featherlight touch, he brushed them away from her face. "Sophia, he did love you in his own way," Vincent said in that rough, assuring voice of his. "It is just that something in him died when Euris died. Some belief that that this world he was in had a future for him. He could never get that belief back. I don't know if he knew how to get it back."

There was a subtle trip in his voice that betrayed the depth of his loss that few could recognize. Confidence that was necessary to be a Captain of a ship gave him a certain swagger. Because of that, it was easy for others to overlook that Vincent had felt the loss of Alex Rowe, not the version that was tge Captain of the _Silvana_ but the friend that he had once been long ago.

Even she had forgotten and that brought her a measure of shame in her neglect.

In the day to day routine that had become her life, Sophia had forgotten that he and Alex had once been so close that when she had first met them at the age of 8, she had insisted that they were brothers. When they had told her that they were not brothers, she had scolded them by saying that it wasn't nice to lie, even if she was a princess and she was supposed to get used to people lying to her.

The worldly comment from so young a soul had sent Vincent into a fit of laughter that had caused his eyes to water while Alex had sat next to him, dumbfounded. The contradictory reactions had only caused her to be more suspicious and it had been left to Euris, the daughter of Marius, to finally convince her that Vincent and Alex were not brothers.

Sheltered in his arms, she allowed herself to indulge in the quiet reminiscing. Like Alvis, she had been the child who was protected by a small group of young adults. Although instead of Alex and Euris taking care of her the way Claus and Lavie took care of Alvis, it had been Vincent who had often been stuck with her.

In those days, it was Vincent who had been the maverick soldier and pilot. He had nearly been kicked out of the military academy on several occasions while Alex had been the steady, rule abiding valedictorian. Vincent had women in all parts of Anatoray clamoring for his attention while Alex had eyes for only one woman.

In fact, it was Alex's courtship of Euris that had brought the two men to the palace. In the beginning, Alex had barely paid attention to her while Vincent was forced to pay more attention to her that he may have wanted when Euris went off to play with Alex.

"For a lack of better word, I'm your babysitter," he'd told her. "There is a sort of honor in it, except I'm not getting paid and I should be."

It was the only time he'd actually complained and the truth was, he had been her favorite babysitter because he treated her like a regular person. He would sneak her out of the palace with a justification that was brilliantly simple.

"No use both of us being bored while the lovebirds are away," he'd say and then they would go off to roam the streets below the palace and sometimes, he would take her to Norkia to watch the vanship races.

But for all Vincent's attentions, it had not been enough to keep her from developing a crush on the dark and solemn Alex Rowe. Knowing how he felt about Euris and how she felt about Euris, Sophia had tried to keep them from finding out. But adults, notoriously dense on the most practical of children's needs, were embarrassingly psychic when it came to childlike crushes.

At the wedding reception for Alex and Euris, Vincent had teased her that since Alex was a taken man, she would have to make due with him. Euris had laughed and joked that she was would rather share Alex than have her little "sister" fall into the arms of such a scoundrel. Alex had protested in jest that he felt like a library book.

Blushing furiously, she had looked at both men and in a tone that was as serious as any nine-year-old was capable of being, she had proclaimed, "Euris, you don't have to share Alex. I'd rather have Vincent, even if he is a scoundrel. He sneaks me out of the castle to see the vanship races."

She giggled as she recalled the shocked faces of Euris, Alex and Marius, who had proceeded to take Vincent out of their listening range. She never had heard the entire account of what Marius had said that night. She only knew that Vincent had returned to the reception with a slightly sick expression on his handsome face and when she'd inquired about what had happened, he'd answered cryptically, "I'm a knight errant who has been put back in his place."

Her chuckle was not lost on Vincent. "Laughter, hmm? They say that is a good sign," Vincent remarked, stroking her back. "What is it that could make you laugh at a dramatic moment such as this?"

She smiled against the grime and soot that decorated his uniform. "I was thinking of Alex and Euris's wedding. Of how much fun it was."

He leaned back and grinned down at her. "Yes, they were good times. Weren't they?"

"Yes, they were." She was relieved to know that she was telling the truth. Her father had never been close to her and the palace officials were distant, suspicious and distrustful of her. The sole exception was Marius. With Marius, Euris, Alex and Vincent, she had the closest thing to a family that she would know in her young life following her mother's death.

Then, one day, Euris was gone and nothing had been the same.

After Euris's dedication ceremony, Alex disappeared only to resurface years later as the captain of the _Silvana_, a ship financed and built by Marius, his friend, Rescius, and the few surviving Guild members who had fled the House of Eraclea's purge.

Vincent had continued to visit her through the years, but he too had changed. Gone was the fun loving rogue who broke the rules at will. In his place was a serious man who smiled and laughed when he remembered that he could or when he had any energy left in him after all he fulfilled the responsibilities that were placed upon him.

Yet, when she had announced that she would enter the Academy, it was Vincent and Marius who had been her advocates to her father. Vincent had promised that he would keep an eye on her and he had kept that promise in the sense that he had kept an eye on her in such a way that allowed her the freedom that she craved.

When she had been asked to serve aboard the _Silvana_, she had jumped at the offer. Her father had his reasons for allowing Marius to assign her to the ship. Vincent did little to hide his displeasure but even less to talk her out of it. The most he had said was, "Be careful, Princess."

She'd smiled indulgently at his serious tone. "This is Alex, Vincent. I know Alex. I'll be fine."

He'd shaken his head. "He's not the same. Just promise me. Please be careful."

She'd promised him but promptly forgot the promise because from the moment she had stepped on the forbidding ship, she had felt at home and when the ship was airborne, she had felt free. Free from the oppression of the palace. Free from the restraints of being Princess Sophia. Free from restrictions of a nobility that could be insufferable and stupid in their in-bred indulgences.

Free to be herself.

Free to fall in love.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Unfortunately for her, freedom had led her to fall in love with the wrong man.

She sniffled. "If I were smarter, I would have fallen in love with Godwin," she muttered.

"The chief mechanic?" Vincent asked leisurely. She nodded as he took her hand and led her to the couch. He chuckled companionably as he took the seat next to her. "He does adore you, but most of this crew loves you. They'd do anything for you. It's the only reason why I left you here."

"You were hurt when I said that I would stay."

"Yes," he answered honestly, "but it turned out to be for the best."

"Was it?"

He looked her in the eyes. "Yes, it was. You led us into battle, faithful, strong and true. I'm proud to serve with you and for you."

"But Alex..."

"...is gone," he finished before she could. "And it isn't because of your order. Alex did what he needed to do."

"He wanted to go back to Euris. In the end, he wanted to be with Euris."

Vincent groaned softly, shook his head and laughed in that odd way that one does when they don't want to cry or yell. "I am not speaking ill of the dead when I say this, because it is nothing that I hadn't said to his face when he was alive, but the plain truth is that Alex spent too much time mourning Euris." He studied the delicate hand that he held. "The last time I saw him, it was before we went into the Grand Stream and we had a bit of a talk."

Recognizing the sardonic twist to his lips, Sophia recalled that before Vincent had left the _Silvana_, he had asked to see Alex privately. Because she'd had more to impart to the bridge crew, she'd let them go without secondary thought and she'd never thought to ask of the details until now. "What did you talk about?"

He grimaced. "Maybe some day I'll give you the whole story. Maybe if I can remember the incident with any accuracy. But at the bare minimum, I can say that we spoke of you."

Sophia's brows drooped in a slight frown. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear this, not so soon after losing Alex and yet, she couldn't help herself as she quipped, "It must have been a short conversation."

"We were pressed for time," he admitted dryly. "But as you may have noticed, Alex didn't need alot of time to appear verbose. If he put together two sentences in a five minute span, that was considered talkative." Sophia, in spite of the ache in her chest, wanted to laugh at his astute observation but the impulse faded as Vincent leaned back, his hand still holding hers.

His gaze fixed on a spot near Alex's desk. By the way his eyes lit from within, Sophia knew that it was the spot where Alex had stood when he and Vincent had last spoken. "We had words, he and I. I truly can't remember most of it. I think I said something stupid like how I missed the man who had been my friend. He told me to piss off. Then I said something about how Euris would not have wanted him to be the person he had become. He told me to shut up. Then I told him he was an ass when it came to you and that Euris was gone." A shadow crossed his features. "Or maybe it was something worse than that," he conceded gloomily.

Shaking her head, she could only guess at what he had said. "What was his reply?"

Vincent's brows drew together and he winced. "He punched me. A solid blow to the gut."

"Oh my." This was not what Sophia wanted to hear.

He raised one of his brows. "_Oh my_ is not quite how I would describe it, especially when I was struggling to breathe, but I guess it'll do," Vincent surmised ruefully. "After he punched me, he said something that made me see red and it was my turn to punch him. I won't lie, Sophia," he began, his voice serious, "it felt damn good to hit him." His eyes narrowed as his brows furrowed. "I think I understand what he was saying much better now. He said, _'Sophia can never be mine the way Euris was.'_ At the time, I thought he was comparing you to Euris for the thousandth time and I wanted to kill him for it. But that wasn't what he was doing or saying." His laugh was short and terse. "Damn, but I didn't get it at all."

"I don't understand, Vincent," she admitted, morbid confusion evident in her tone. "If this is meant to make me feel better, I can tell you right now that it isn't working."

His expression was sympathetic but he continued, "You couldn't be _his_. You, Empress Sophia, can never be one man's _mine_."

She blinked a couple of times before his meaning became clear and suddenly she felt a burning anger at the unfairness of it. "But I could have been," she protested fiercely, frustrated that she had never been given the choice. "I could have belonged to him. I did belong to him."

Vincent regarded her with the patient compassion that only a long time friend can give to another. "No, Sophia," he contradicted as gently as was possible. "He could belong to you, but you could never have belonged to him. Not the way he would have wanted. Not the way Euris had belonged to him."

"This isn't helping, Vincent," she choked out, tears beginning to threaten.

"Sophia," he began, leaning up, taking both her hands in his own, willing her to understand and accept her destiny. "Any man who seeks your hand and your love can never regard you as his own. You belong to the world. Without you, we are doomed to fall back on to old habits. We've been trained by a vicious, capricious queen to distrust and disbelieve our better nature. We need to know the strength and kindness of a different queen to help us stay the course that we have set for ourselves." He brought her hands to his mouth. His lips touched her skin between her knuckles with an intensity as if to will her to understand. "The fate of our world, my Queen, depends on you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sophia knew them to be true.

It was only during the years she had spent on the _Silvana_ had she seen a glimpse of the freedom to dream of being something other than the Empress.

But for her, it had been just a dream.

Her life had never been, and would never be, her own. She had always known that this moment would come. The responsibility of her present and future was heavy and in her clear green eyes could not hide her fear of that which was her birthright.

But never before had she considered that her destiny had played a part in the way that Alex Rowe had considered her and yet, as she recalled their relationship from the time she came aboard the _Silvana_ to the last conversation they had shared in these quarters, it made an aching, tortuous kind of sense.

Vincent's interpretation of Alex's words were more than possible and it gave her both comfort and pain. With a trace of rare sarcasm, she jested darkly, "And people think that it is lucky to be born royal."

He had no answer to that. He only squeezed her hands in commiseration.

Feeling older than she had ever felt in her life, save for those moments when she had been desperately praying for Claus, Lavie and Alvis to appear to free _Exile_, she stood from her seated position. With a small, weary smile, she released his hand, reluctantly, even a bit fearfully.

Slowly, she made her way to the small port window and looked out into a clear blue sky. A sky that was free.

"We should be celebrating," she mused wistfully. "Exile has been released from her cocoon. Delphine is no more. Anatoray and Disith are finally at peace. There should be some measure of happiness within me."

She heard his footsteps and then felt his warmth as he stood next to her. After a pause to gaze upon the same sky that she was admiring, he said, "Happiness is relative." He sighed tiredly. "But it is possible. For all of us."

As his words ended, they saw a familiar, beat-up vanship appear on the horizon and she smiled at its timing. "Even for Alex?" she speculated, hopeful.

His trademark half-grin lifted a corner of his mouth. "I can't say for sure," Vincent replied. He paused to watch more vanships of all different colors come into their view. They were fewer in numbers than when they had started out and it made the sight all the more poignant. Thoughtfully, he continued, "If there is an afterworld and Alex found Euris, then knowing Euris, she walked into his arms. They've probably exchanged sickeningly sweet nothings and after a suitable amount of time has been spent nuzzling and generally annoying everyone around them, she will tell him what an idiot he was for not being brave enough to take a chance on love with someone amazing."

She laughed softly at the reassuring image he conjured and the advice that he subtly imparted. With a leftover smile gracing her lips, she backed away from the window and went to pick up her glasses where they had fallen next to the couch.

After adjusting the glasses upon her nose, she straightened her skirt and smoothed her hair. "It is time to meet the fleet, Captain Alzey," she announced smoothly, her shoulders rolled back. Holding out her hand to him, she rewarded him with a wink that relaxed the grief that lingered and a smile that promised to look to the future and then commanded in that sensible way she had of speaking, "Come, my knight errant, it is time for us to move."

He straightened and bowed to her. "As you wish, my Queen." Then he held out his arm for her and escorted her to greet her the new world that she had helped free.

* * *

_A year and a half later..._

Upon the memorial marker that bore Alex Rowe's name, Empress Sophia of Anatoray, dressed in the plain, black uniform that she would always treasure, placed a pair of beat-up goggles that she had found in the captain's quarters of the _Silvana_. She ran her fingers lightly over the stone's engraving and thought that another name should be added to the stone to make it look right.

Next to the marker, a particular bottle caught her eye. Squinting, she read the label and noted that the bottle was a wine of rare vintage. "Sir, this is your favorite," she said aloud but softly. "Life has begun to fall into a routine. This winemaker in Norkia reopened his vineyards but even so, it is a miracle of miracles that he still had some of these in his cellar."

Her clear green eyes sparkled. "I can remember Vincent sneaking me a taste of this wine at your wedding reception," she reminisced fondly. "It seems fitting that someone brought this to you now that you and Euris have been reunited. Although I must warn the both of you that I cannot vouch for how long this bottle will be available to you so you'd better act fast. The locals are respectful but they aren't wasteful and good wine is good wine after all." She allowed a small grin to remain on her lips. "Somehow, I don't think you'll mind if this gets spirited away."

Before standing again, she wiped away the beginnings of a tear that came upon her. _Love and friendship never really dies_, she thought with a sadness that a person feels when he or she misses friends who were loved.

Out of respect that she knew that she would never rid herself of, nor did she ever want to, she stood, saluted and said, "Never forget that I will always be your First Officer, sir."

Below her, she heard and felt the majestic rumble even before she lifted her head. With suspended breath, she watched as the great ship _Silvana_ came into view. "I love you, Alex Rowe," she confessed as her beloved ship moved gracefully into the sky. "I cared for you as a girl and I loved you as a woman, but..."

_Life demands that we survive and move forward..._

The words floated to her on a breeze and she didn't need to guess from whom they came from as she turned to greet the man who had promised to meet her in this spot.

"Vincent," she welcomed with a wide smile and a speculative gleam in her eyes as she took in the fine figure he cut in the new uniform of the military guard. She'd gotten away with changing the colors by pronouncing if the Disith could not keep their military colors, then Anatoray had to abandon theirs.

The compromise, of course, was black and grey. Some had complained of the color change, but Vincent Alzey had offered no opinion. A uniform was a uniform. He did, however, nix the idea of making the wearing of a cape mandatory. He had argued, successfully, that there were some men who were just too clumsy to wear such garments and he was one of them.

As he moved towards her, his broad shoulders, lean waist and long legs on display, she had to wonder if his argument, thin as it was, was a token vanity in that he did not want to hide his attributes. The closer he came to her, the more she forgave him for his suspected vanity. _Some men should not be hidden_, she mused appreciatively.

Not giving away her more earthly thoughts, she scolded him lightly, "It is about time that you have come to join me."

He moved to her side with a speed that did not surprise her. Taking one of her hands, he lifted it to his mouth to brush his lips across the knuckles. "I've been here for hours, Majesty," he explained easily, his breath warm and moist against her skin. "You are the one who is late."

"I'm the queen. I am allowed to be late," she quipped with a grin. Glancing at the bottle of wine, her brow raised as she questioned, "Would that fine bottle of Norkia wine be from you?"

He scratched at his collar as he admitted sheepishly, "Yes. I thought you would appreciate the gesture."

She nearly laughed at the uncomfortable half-grin he was giving her. She knew that Vincent was not one to speak to stones and he was terrible at acknowledging anything spiritual. The last flight of _Exile_ was as close to a glimpse of heaven as he wanted to get while he was alive.

In spite of his discomfort, he humored her because he loved her and she knew it. "I do appreciate it, Vincent," she said and extended her other hand to his. "Shall we tell him the news?"

"I suppose," he muttered, his voice wryly humoruous. "Although if he doesn't know by now, he's being as dense as ever."

"Then let's help him out," she suggested gently.

He sighed and hugged her close to his side. "Alex, Euris, and Marius, if you're listening," he began. She could hear in his voice that he felt a little ridiculous talking to the stone but he didn't halt his announcement. "I have asked for Sophia's hand in marriage. Although I was once a scoundrel, she has decided that I've since improved and have proven myself worthy to be her consort." His voice, full of wry mirth, softened with affection. "I love her and by some miracle, she returns my love." She looked up at his face then and saw that his expression tightened with a rare flash of grief as he seemed to realize that his friends were in a place that he prayed could hear him. The grief was brief as it was supplanted by wonder and hope. "I pledge my heart, my loyalty, my service and my protection to her. And I promise that I will do my best to make her happy."

Sophia curved a hand around his jaw. "You did good," she whispered, her tone soft and loving.

He placed a kiss on the crown of her head and tried to pretend that she did not see the shimmer of tears in his eyes. "Yes, I think we did."

* * *

Vincent held his fiancee close to his side as they left the cliff and made their way to his vanship. 

Like many things about his past, it was often forgotten that Vincent had started out as a vanship pilot just like his friend, Alex.

His second-in-command had sputtered when he had told him that he wanted a vanship. "But why, sir?" he'd asked, disbelief written on his pudgy features.

"Because Her Highness likes them," he had intoned gravely and that had been that because when it came down to it, no one knew Sophia better than he and he had been right on target.

The first time he had taken her up in the new vanship, she had glowed with delight for days after and he had to admit that he had glowed brightly himself.

He wasn't, however, glowing now. In place of a glow was a sickening impression of jaundice.

Vincent, in short, felt positively ill.

"What is wrong, Vincent?" Sophia asked, concerned. "You are beginning to look faint."

He let his attention drift upward to the dark hulk that hung in profile against the blue of the sky and he stifled a groan.

Sophia had thought that the visit to Alex's memorial marker would be the hard part of announcing their engagement, but Vincent had a different idea than his fiancee on what was considered hard.

Wherever Alex was, Vincent was almost certain that he would approve of Sophia agreeing to marry him. There were probably a ton of caveats that Alex would have added, but Vincent figured that Alex would have to wait to bring up those grievances because Vincent had no intention of leaving Sophia's side for a very long time to come.

_No, I do not fear of Alex or Alex's ghost_, he groused silently. _But the ship in the clouds is another matter entirely._

"You know that I am not afraid of very much," he began, his stomach muscles convulsing and the corner of his mouth twitching nervously. "I could go in front of the entire Anatoray Assembly and easily announce my intention to marry you. I may have to dodge a couple of assassination attempts but I am confident that I would get by. I can do the same with the leaders of Disith who will hate me for taking away their chance at winning your hand, but that crew of yours..." He let his words fade as he warily eyed the _Silvana_.

"Vincent, are you afraid of the _Silvana_?"

"Not the ship, just the crew," he repeated. He glanced at her innocent expression and if he did not know her as well as he did, he would have thought she was being deliberately obtuse.

"They are your family," he explained with pained patience. "I have to do this right or else they'll have my head, or my ship, whichever is the most convenient, on a platter."

She stopped, an incredulous expression on her lovely features. Then she began to laugh. A full throated laugh that he had never before heard from her nor ever expected and Vincent Alzey's heart, a once disciplined piece of machinery if there ever was one, constricted mightily at the joyful sound as it soothed his nerves and calmed his fears.

She lifted her fingers to smooth the worry lines from his brows and encouraged him on a whisper, "Don't be afraid, Vincent. Don't you remember? I made my choice long ago. I said that I would choose you."

"You were nine at the time," he recalled. "And feeling undue pressure from your audience." This dip in confidence was unlike him, but he wanted to do right by her then and he wanted to do right by her now. "A lot has happened since then."

She rose to the tips of her toes to reach his malleable lips. Her soft mouth found his and clung as if to seal her vow of faith in him. He suspected that the kiss lasted longer than she had intended and rejoiced at the sigh of reluctance she emitted when she released his mouth. Almost immediately, he missed her taste but the musing was replaced by new one as she nuzzled her pert nose against his throat.

"Yes, a lot has changed," she acceded with a voice that was a strange mix of sensible and sensuous. "It is a new world that we live in, but our hearts are the same." She lifted her eyes, clear and true, to meet his and the love and affection he saw within those emerald depths soothed his worn psyche. "You were there when I was most frightened, when I was in mourning and when I was healing. You've stood by me when I needed support, strength and friendship. You have always been there for me, Vincent Alzey, and for all that I love the _Silvana_, there is only one man that I love and trust totally and that is you." She gave her a blinding smile and said, "With you, Vincent, I feel free."

She had never said that to him before and for long moments, he found himself in capable of speech. "You want to make that speech when we get to the ship?" he questioned, his voice thick with emotion. "I think it would sound better coming from you."

She chuckled at his suggestion and hugged him close. "I'll make you a deal. If you take on the assembly and all those nobles who I can barely stand to be in the same room with, then I will talk to the crew of the _Silvana_."

He grinned against her lily scented hair. "I can handle that."

"Good," she said and pulled away but only as far as the length of their arms, hands remained entwined. Then with a wink that put to rest his fears and a smile that promised him his future, she commanded, "Come, my knight who is errant no more, it is time to make our move."


End file.
